


Slow Down

by nanosorcerer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blossoming Ironstrange, Canon-Compliant except end of Endgame, Current Pepperony, Cybernetic organism, Endgame AU, Endgame Spoilers???, Future Dr. Pepperony, Healing, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, IronStrange, M/M, Mild Language, Post Endgame Fix It, StrangeIron, Tony lives, cyborg tony, endgame fix it fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanosorcerer/pseuds/nanosorcerer
Summary: Only five weeks after losing his arm to the snap, and Tony gets restless while Stephen is on Tony-sitting duty.*****Tony glanced out the window at the garage, toying with an idea which had been nagging at his mind for most of the morning.“Let’s go for a drive, Doc”, he said off handedly enough that Stephen didn’t look up from his book again.“Sure, let’s fly a plane while we’re at it”, Stephen returned distractedly.





	Slow Down

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I've actually posted. I'm not sure what kind of response I'll get to these little ficlets, but I enjoy writing them. Feedback is always greatly appreciated.

Phantom aches.

Tony’s doctor, his surgeon, his nurse, his physiotherapist, and a certain former neurosurgeon had warned him about them. The torment of the consciousness holding onto the memories of a limb which the body had lost. It was hard to describe, an itching, an empty ache, the space below the stump of his shoulder feeling as though it were on fire. 

Tony fidgeted in his seat at his workbench as his arm ached numbly, or the arm he used to have, legs tensed as he contemplated whether he’d be able to stand the sensation. He stood after a few seconds of unbearable psychosomatic pain, grabbing his coffee mug with his six-weeks-new cybernetic hand. Flexing his left hand just as a reminder to what that felt like, he charged down the hall to the kitchen, lost limb screaming at him to do something. There was nothing he could do, though, but ride out the pain, his temples already hot with traces of sweat. Tony nearly tossed his mug onto the counter as he entered the kitchen with a trembling metal hand, unable to hold the weight of the empty mug any longer. He ignored Stephen’s upward glance at the loud clatter of ceramic. The sorcerer was cross legged on the couch with a book, wearing dark skinny jeans that Tony decided to comment on when his nonexistent arm didn’t feel like it was being torn off. Stephen had been invited over for a late picnic lunch, at ease to wait around the house while Morgan and Pepper were at the farmers’ market getting fresh fruit for their desert.

“How’s the prosthetic?”, Stephen asked, clarifying since Tony’s left arm had hurt him for years and was even more sensitive to stress since The Battle. 

“Cybernetic replacement”, Tony corrected, demonstrating by waggling the fingers of said cybernetic arm at the other man. Stephen didn’t mention the twitchy movement of the new limb, nor it’s owner’s grimace, which Tony appreciated. Stephen smiled to humour him, though the doctor wasn’t satisfied with Tony’s fake display of confidence. 

Tony glanced out the window at the garage, toying with an idea which had been nagging at his mind for most of the morning.  
“Let’s go for a drive, Doc”, he said, off-handedly enough that Stephen didn’t look up from his book again.

“Sure, let’s fly a plane while we’re at it”, Stephen returned distractedly. 

“I mean it.” Tony turned to him. “I haven’t driven in over four months. I’m getting cabin fever being cooped up in this…cabin.” He trailed off as he looked around the room, suddenly feeling helplessly small before catching Stephen’s eye. Stephen squinted, studying the other man’s face for signs of joking, but found none.

“Tony”, he started, putting on his ‘doctor’ voice, slow and reasonable to avoid initiating an argument. “You’re not even supposed to be bearing weight with it yet, never mind picking anything up.”

“Doc Myers says I can try to pick stuff up as long as it’s less than half a pound. Besides, my physio or whatever you want to call it is going really well.”

“Yeah, well, this doctor says differently”, Stephen grumbled, eyes flicking over the offending red and gold hunk of metal.

“It’s been six weeks, I think I can handle it. Besides, you’re trained as a neurosurgeon, what would you know about prosthetics and mechanics?”

Ignoring the jab at his former profession, a sore topic, Stephen frowned. “You don’t have the grip strength or the control. You’re being foolish”, he finished, brow furrowed, looking back down at his book to indicate the conversation was over. Not a second later, he heard keys jingle and his head shot up to catch Tony’s back retreating out the front door.

“Stark!” Tony spun the keys on a cybernetic finger, looking over his shoulder at the sorcerer sprinting after him.

“Coming after all, wizard?” Stephen glowered at him from under dark brows, easily keeping pace with the shorter man who was making a beeline for the garage. 

“When Pepper left you and I alone, there was something of an unspoken agreement between her and I that I keep you out of trouble. I’m not about to let you do something stupid that could get you killed.”

“Oh, Strange, I didn’t know you cared so much”, Tony threw at him, voice dripping with fake honey as he tore into the garage, lifting the automatic door, stalking around his beloved Audi with something akin to hunger. 

“I don’t, I’m just scared of your wife.” Tony turned to him with a critical look, but decided to bypass that comment for the moment.

“Well, neither she nor you are my keeper, so get in the car or stay behind to face Pepper’s wrath.” He turned to open the driver side door, but the sorcerer was standing so close that he didn’t have room to do so. Tony tilted his head, mouth pressed into an impatient, thin line. “C’mon Strange, I’m nearly twelve years your senior, you are not the boss of me.” The sorcerer remained unmoving, merely staring with discerning slits of blue and green, the fabric of his cardigan soft against Tony’s bare forearm. The taller man remained an immovable force, jaw set and arms crossed. Tony was about to make a wry comment about personal space issues when the sorcerer spoke.

“Tony.” A single word, his name, sent Tony’s gut reeling. The other man had said it in that same soft, desperate tone he had right before he was…dusted, seconds before those sea green-blue-gold eyes lost focus and disappeared completely. Tony was vaguely aware of his heart hammering in the beginning stages of an anxiety attack, then tore away from the sorcerer’s eyes once he was sure they were still there. 

“Please, be reasonable”, the sorcerer continued in his normal tone, and Tony could breathe again. Heart pounding, he squared Stephen with a look fiery enough to level even the strongest will.

“Out of my way, Strange”, he said shortly, shoving the taller man in the chest with all the strength he could muster from his aching left arm. The sorcerer was forced to step back, but quickly clambered around the front of the car as Tony slammed the driver door shut. Stephen got into the passenger seat, jaw set in frustration as Tony didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smirk. It quickly dissolved, though, as he watched the sorcerer struggling with his seatbelt, hands shaking more violently than usual from anxiety. Tony was about to risk hurting the man’s pride by offering to help when the seatbelt clicked, allowing a breath of relief from both men. Tony reached to grab the back of the passenger seat, looking over his shoulder as he began to back up, but he missed with his prosthetic and nudged Stephen’s shoulder instead. 

Tony muttered something that might have been an apology, nearing hissing as he tore the rest of the way out of the garage. Stephen said nothing; the sorcerer’s memories of his own clumsy hands post-surgery were still fresh, and he would be the last person to judge Tony while he was still gaining control of his prosthetic. 

“We’re both fucking messes, aren’t we?”, Tony said, a bitter undertone betraying the cool facade his shades lent him. It took him three jerky tries to switch back to first gear, before setting off down the gravel drive to the main road. He noticed the lack of response from Stephen and risked a glance at the other man. The sorcerer, all six feet of him, was pressed back into the leather seat, white-knuckling the handle on the door despite them going a cool 30 miles an hour.

“You doing alright there, Doc?”

“Fine”, he breathed hoarsely, making an effort to loosen his grip. 

‘We’re not even on the road, I’m going to have to go a lot faster-.”

“I know”, Stephen growled, his voice reaching that baritone that Tony swore he could feel in his chest. “Sorry. Just…haven’t been in a car…since the accident.”

“Accident?” Tony quirked a brow, checking the road before pulling on to it, ignoring the searing pain in his stump and the jerking electrical charges racing through his cybernetic arm. He saw Stephen check himself out of the corner of his eye; right, he hadn’t ever told Tony about his accident. The start of it all. 

“My hands”, he responded, his voice strained under its regular bass. There was a moment or two of silence and Tony glanced at him, expecting the sorcerer to elaborate, but he did no such thing. 

“Were you driving?” He didn’t expect the response he got to that question; Stephen visibly paled and his jaw clenched as though suppressing the urge to vomit. He nodded in response, unable to form words. “Then you have nothing to worry about”, Tony grinned. “I have a perfect driving record.” This actually teased a tight grin out of the other man.

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Tony chuckled, turning his attention back to the road. Something in his mind clicked, his heart flickering as he realized the emotional trauma Stephen was reliving just so Tony didn’t go driving off on his own. Whether it was a form of self-preservation or actual concern, Tony couldn’t help but appreciate the other man facing an obvious anxiety trigger. 

They entered a 50 mile per hour zone and Tony switched to third gear, clenched his teeth and let his right arm drop suddenly from the steering wheel as a spasm ripped through it. There was a frantic whirring within the cybernetic bicep, the ‘muscles’ contracting as they reacted to the unexpected strain of such rigorous use. Tony groaned in pain, his eyes tearing up as he tried to keep from hunching over.

“Holy shit, Stark”, Stephen spat. “Pull over. Now!”

“Can’t move my arm”, Tony hissed through his teeth, focusing on keeping the car on the road, though black spots were dancing across his vision. Stephen grabbed the gear shift with both hands.

“Gear down!”, the sorcerer commanded, watching Tony’s feet so he knew when to shift gears. They worked in tandem until they were down to first gear, Tony sputtering through pain the entire time, doubled over and slumped against his door while Stephen leaned over the centre console to grab the steering wheel from him. Dust kicked up as he hurriedly steered them over to the side of the road, telling Tony to press on the brake so he could switch them to park, twisting the keys from the ignition. Both men were panting as the road dust settled, Stephen from his onsetting anxiety attack and Tony as pain ripped through his stump, his metal arm, his lost arm, tears squeezing from his eyes. 

Still reeling with adrenaline and his ongoing anxiety attack, Stephen leaned over the centre console to see if Tony was stable. Large hands trembling even more violently than usual reached for Tony’s back, the other man’s skin burning beneath his t-shirt.  
“Tony, are you alright?” Hair drenched in sweat, Tony shook his head, chest heaving as he groaned.

“F-fuck. Y-you got any painkiller spells on ya, Doc?” He nearly yelled when he felt cool, unsteady hands on the hot metal of his cybernetic arm. His arm on fire, Tony watched through pain-blurred eyes as scarred fingers traced the exposed seams of the metal, the sorcerer holding his arm as though it were a delicate flower, a newborn kitten, the most precious piece of jewelry in the world. Slowly, the pain began to dissolve, replaced with an overly cool feeling that made his arm feel too light, but he wasn’t about to complain.  
“I didn’t expect you to actually have-.”

“Quiet”, Stephen cut him off. “I’m still finishing.” His pain all but gone, Tony watched, cheeks still flushed with heat as the sorcerer’s trembling hands deftly moved over the remaining parts of his arm, ending up at silicon fingertips where his touch paused momentarily before passing over. The sorcerer sat back a bit to survey his work, and only then did Tony notice how close they had been leaning together. 

“How’s it feel?”, Stephen asked, interrupting Tony’s thoughts. 

Tony experimented tentatively by twitching his fingers, realizing it felt as though his arm had pins and needles. “Doesn’t hurt. I can’t feel anything, actually.”

“Well, I didn’t actually fix anything, I’ll have to read up on healing cybernetic body parts”, he offered as a half-hearted joke, Tony smiling in response. “It’s just kind of frozen, like when you get a tooth pulled.”

“Works for me. At least until I can take my painkillers.” There was a moment of silence as they both regarded the hunk of metal which had just caused so much trouble. Tony glanced at the sorcerer, noticing the lingering fear in blue-green eyes. “You’re never gonna want to get in a car with me again, eh?”

“We’ll see about that.” Tony was taken aback by his response, even more so when Stephen got out of the car and walked, stumbling slightly, around to the driver side door, opening it after one failed attempt. “Get out, Stark.”

Tony looked up at him from over the tops of his shades, mouth gaping. “No way in hell, wizard. You’re not driving my Audi.”

“Neither are you”, Stephen reasoned, voice cool underneath its anxious tremble, pointing to the metal arm which may as well have been a fire extinguisher melded to Tony’s body in its frozen state. Tony was nearly vibrating with frustration as he clambered out of the driver’s seat, thrown off balance by the dead weight of his arm. 

“Scratch her and you’re dead meat, Houdini.”

“You’re welcome”, Stephen rolled his eyes, sass still intact, as they both climbed back in. 

It took a good five minutes for Stephen to commit to a three point turn in the middle of the back country highway, but they finally headed back to the cabin at a healthy 30 miles per hour, Stephen checking his rear view mirror anxiously every ten seconds. Usually, Tony would have commented on his grandma-paced driving, but the weight of his painless arm kept his mouth glued shut. They cruised by a willow-edged pond as Tony stared out the window, practically feeling the anxiety ebbing off Stephen in waves. The sorcerer’s knuckles were white, his eyes frantic, Tony saw he was trying to breathe himself into a calmer state.

“I guess it was a good thing that you came.” The silence following Tony’s comment was deafening as Stephen considered whether he was able to drive and talk at the same time. 

“You shouldn’t have tried to drive in the first place”, he finally replied, voice cold.

“I know. But I did, there was nothing that was going to stop me. I mean, you tried, and it didn’t work. So thanks, I guess.” Tony expected a wry smile from the sorcerer, maybe a quick jab, but not the thundercloud which passed over his expression.

“Living for your daughter wasn’t reason enough for you to stop?” His tone was bitter and his hands were white on the steering wheel again, this time in frustration. “Surviving that-“, his voice broke as he pointed with his nose at the cybernetic arm, “wasn’t miracle enough for you to be more careful with your life from now on? I don’t know what you’re looking for, Tony, but thrill seeking shouldn’t be it. You’re not twenty anymore. You’ve got a kid and-.”

“You don’t think I know that?! You think I don’t wake up in the middle of the night, every night, waking myself up sobbing because I almost left Morgan alone! You think I don’t fucking know that?! You don’t even have a family, Strange, so don’t go lecturing me! You have no fucking idea!”

Tony’s face felt hot with anger, and was surprised once again when he turned to Stephen and was met with a mask of cool indifference. 

“You’re right”, Stephen said, his voice stony as he turned onto the long, gravel driveway to the cabin. “I don’t have a family. Maybe because I rub people the wrong way, saying stuff like I just did. I don’t know.”

The lack of fire in his voice threw Tony off. He wanted to fight, was ready to scream some more. Not at Stephen, but at himself for being so foolish. Angry that he agreed with every word the sorcerer had said, knew he was right because he had told himself all of that and more, over and over, since The Battle. But despite that, he’d taken the car out against his own better judgement. Hot tears had spilled over without him noticing, and he tried desperately to wipe them away with his still aching left hand.

Stephen pulled into the garage, hands shaking like he was being mildly electrocuted. He visibly bit his cheek, cutting the ignition before clamping one hand within the other, desperately willing the tremors away. It was only after a minute or so of silence that he looked up and saw Tony’s cheeks glistening with tears in the low light. The other man had given up on hiding or wiping his tears, blankly staring ahead as they streamed down his face freely. 

Stephen swore under his breath as he shifted in his seat, turning towards Tony, trembling fingers gently framing the man’s scarred face. He turned his head so Tony was facing him, deep brown eyes dropping to the sorcerer’s collarbone so he didn’t have to meet his gaze, and used his sleeve to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“It’s okay”, Stephen said numbly, though neither of them believed him. He dropped his hands from Tony’s face, though he didn’t turn away, eyes dropping back to the other man’s arm.

“I’m going to have to unfreeze it”, he stated simply, and Tony nodded in response. “It’s going to hurt.” No response this time. More silence as they both sat, stewing in heated discomfort and guilt. “Tony…”, Stephen started.

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry.”

They both spoke at once and Stephen caught an amused light flicker through Tony’s eyes. “I should be apologizing”, Tony reasoned, head tilting, studying this man who was so patient with him. “And I am…sorry.” Stephen shook his head, looking down at his hands, quickly looking up from them again.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did…the way I said it…”

“You probably just saved my life today, Strange. We’re cool.” Hearing the hint of Tony’s usual smart ass tone, Stephen smiled.

“Morgan and Pepper are lucky to have you.” Something in his voice, so deep and soft and sincere, made Tony suppress a shiver, made him want to say something like, ‘You could have me too, if you wanted’, but he wasn’t even sure where that came from. Those words weren’t his own, but they felt right. Then he looked back up at the man sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, a practical stranger, though something in the deepest recesses of his conscience told him otherwise. 

“You’re still staying for lunch, okay”, Tony said, confirmation more than a question, and Stephen responded with one of those rare, warm smiles. 

“On one condition”, he said, teasing evident only in his half smile. Tony took his shades off, smirking at the ground, then raised a brow as he eyed the sorcerer.

“I don’t know if you’re in the position to be bartering, but go on.”

“Stop calling me Strange.” Tony blinked. Big Bambi eyes, Stephen thought, as he took a second to process the sorcerer’s request.

“That’s your name, though”, Tony argued numbly.

“No, my name’s Stephen. Kindly use it.”

“Pushy”, was Tony’s only remark as they climbed out of the car and made their way to the front of the house. Morgan met them on the front steps of the porch, where Pepper was cutting fruit, looking up to greet them both with a smile.

“You two went for a walk?”

“Yep. Just around the south end of the lake.” They both knew she knew that he was lying, but they would talk about it later. “I gotta deal with my arm for a sec, then I’ll be back out to help.” He leaned over to kiss her on the lips, a few seconds longer than just a peck, turning to the screen door.

“Do you need me to give you a hand with it, Tony?”

“Thanks, babe. Stephen’s gonna help me.” Stephen and Pepper shared a quick glance, a tiny smile.

“We’ll just be a few minutes”, Stephen said, voice soft, eyes greener looking than normal in the warm light. 

“Doc”, Morgan said, reaching up to offer him a slice of fresh apple, which he took with a grin and a gentle, “Thank you very much, Miss Morgan”. And he walked into the cabin, chest light for the first time in a long time, chewing on the treat given to him by a small someone who already loved him, going to help the man who was already cursing at the vase he’d knocked over with his frozen arm.


End file.
